


Apartment 412

by HeemaWren



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Blowjobs, M/M, Porn with a side of Plot, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-11
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2018-04-25 20:45:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4975903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeemaWren/pseuds/HeemaWren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kouki needs a roommate. Seijuurou needs a place to stay. The situation would be much simpler if there wasn't three years of unresolved sexual tension piled on top.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Apartment 412

During the summer of his third year in university, Furihata Kouki received a text.

This was not an uncommon occurrence, of course. He had plenty of friends who wanted to hang out and classmates that had questions about school work. The message itself was from Kuroko, which was also about as ordinary as could be. His friends from Seirin were still his closest, after all. Even the contents of the text were innocuous at first glance, though Kouki honestly should have known better, given who sent it.

_Do you still need a roommate?_

Kouki did. And so, he responded as such.

As it turned out, Kuroko had found a potential match. It was someone he knew well, he said, and he could vouch for their good behavior. Well, those weren’t the exact words he’d used, but that was the general vibe that Kouki got from it. It was good enough. He was getting kind of desperate.

They arranged a day to all meet up and have dinner at Kuroko and Kagami’s place. It didn’t even strike Kouki as odd that Kuroko had never dropped a name or even alluded as to what kind of person he had found. A blissfully ignorant part of Kouki’s brain just assumed it was someone that wasn’t a mutual acquaintance; perhaps someone Kuroko had met during college.

He was, of course, extremely wrong.

Kouki rang the doorbell three times in a row, shifting the bags he carried from one arm to another. He’d stopped by the store and bought ice cream for dessert, but he couldn’t decide what kind he wanted and ended up getting several different types. He was starting to regret his decision now that his arms were beginning to hurt and nobody was answering the door. He rang the bell once again for good measure, sighing in relief when he heard footsteps on the other side of the door.

He fully expected either one of his Seirin teammates to be the one to greet him. He was, therefore, not at all prepared to find himself face to face with the one and only  _Akashi Seijuurou._

“A-A-Akashi-kun?!”

Kouki’s heart pounded in his ears, his eyes glued to the gorgeous man in front of him. And _damn,_ Seijuurou looked as fine as ever. He had to make a conscious effort not to stare at the muscles straining against the thin fabric of his shirt, and tried not to imagine running his tongue along the white collarbones peaking out from the neckline. He wasn’t very successful at either.

“Kouki. What a pleasant surprise,” Seijuurou purred, sending all kinds of shivers down Kouki’s spine. He smirked devilishly. “I believe I recall asking you to call me by my given name.”

Kouki blushed a million shades of crimson, remembering the exact circumstances in which that exchange had occurred. “I-I th-thought that was just wh-when we were…”

Seijuurou chuckled, a low sound in his throat that made Kouki unable to tear his eyes away from that incredibly enticing neck. “It’s been quite a while, hasn’t it?” he asked, stepping close as his gaze swept over Kouki like a predator stalking its prey. He could feel sweat pooling at the back of his neck that had nothing to do with the summer heat.

“Th-three years… I-I think,” he replied, trying to sound nonchalant and not like he was currently unraveling at the seams. In truth, it had been three _excruciatingly_ long years since he had last seen the redhead, considering he had been harboring the hugest, most hopeless crush on him for the past _five._ He’d tried desperately to get over him after they’d lost contact, but to no avail, if his current state was any clue. Seijuurou had been the one to plague his mind for a full quarter of his life; most persistently when it was late at night and Kouki was alone in a cold bed.

Especially considering how their last encounter had gone.

“You look... good,” Seijuurou commented, which was more than enough to turn Kouki completely red from head to toe on its own, but the tone implied much much more than a simple _“oh, it looks like you’ve been doing well for yourself.”_ It was more of a _“you have no idea how hard it is not to throw you on the floor and fuck you senseless right now.”_

He gulped.

He’d certainly had his share of fantasies about Seijuurou in that manner over the years. And sure, he wasn’t a blushing virgin anymore (well, he wasn’t a virgin, at least) but his sexual experiences were still pretty limited. He’d given up on them entirely sometime in the past year, once he realized his mind would drift back to a certain redhead anytime he found himself in a situation that was even remotely intimate. He also might’ve called out the wrong name a couple times in the throes of passion. It was better to save himself the agony.

It wasn’t like those fantasies were completely baseless, either. Kouki couldn’t count how many times the events of their high school graduation party had played through his head. Maybe it was the fact that it was his first encounter of any sort, or maybe it was the fact that it was with _Akashi Seijuurou,_ but everything else Kouki had experienced after that paled in comparison. It was permanently burned into his mind, even if he always figured that one night was just a fluke that would never repeat itself.

But, well, he’d been wrong before.

“U-uh, y-you too,” he stuttered. Seijuurou was eyeing him hungrily, that wolfish grin still on his face.

“Please, allow me to help you with those.”

Suddenly, he was close. _So_ close. Kouki could feel his breath on his skin, could feel the heat radiating off his body. It would be easy to just drop the bags right where they were, knock him to the floor and climb on top of him, tear that infuriatingly tight shirt off, pin his wrists to the ground, attack his neck with nips and bites and hear that incredibly sexy _moan–_

“Ahem.”

Kouki shrieked. “K-Kuroko?! When did you get here?!”

“I have been here the entire time,” Kuroko responded stoically. “I did not want to interrupt, but I would rather not witness anything indecent in my living room.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Tetsuya,” Seijuurou responded, stepping out of Kouki’s personal space far enough that he was able to breathe properly again. “I would take him to my room before engaging in any... _activities.”_

Kouki’s jaw dropped. Kuroko, on the other hand, seemed completely unfazed.

“I would rather you not defile my bed, either,” he intoned. “Would you please take the ice cream Furihata-kun so kindly brought us to the kitchen before it melts? I believe Kagami-kun could use some help as well.”

Seijuurou cast him a stony look. “Very well.” He leaned close to Kouki, his calloused fingers brushing against his knuckles as he took the bags, a lingering smirk on his lips. Kouki watched him retreat into the other room, not entirely sure if he was imagining the extra sway in his hips.

“Furihata-kun, you’re drooling.”

Kouki snapped his mouth shut and whirled to face his old teammate, grabbing him by the shoulders, his eyes wide. “K-Kuroko! Why the hell is Sei--I-I mean Akashi here!?”

Kuroko blinked. “What do you mean? He is the reason I called you here.”

“Wh-what? I thought you had a roommate for me!”

“I do,” Kuroko replied patiently. “Akashi-kun is in need of a place to stay.”

Kouki gaped, his mind still trying to process the information he had just received. “B-but why? Isn’t he like, filthy rich or something? My apartment is tiny! And shitty! And why would he even need a roommate?!”

“Please calm down, Furihata-kun,” Kuroko said, prying Kouki’s death grip from his shoulders. “I think it would be more appropriate for Akashi-kun to explain the situation. And anyway, I thought you would be more receptive to the idea of living with him.”

_Living_ with Seijuurou. Kouki could feel a panic attack coming on at the mere thought. Living with the redhead meant eating together, watching TV together, sleeping in the same room, sneaking peeks at him as changed his clothes, walking in on him as he’s just stepping out of the shower--

“Perhaps you should sit down, Furihata-kun. You don’t look so well.”

Kouki let himself be led to the table and seated, his mind unable to claw itself out of the gutter. When Seijuurou reappeared with Kagami, Kouki didn’t miss the wanton glances and lingering touches he gave him as the food was served. Every second spent in his company was driving Kouki absolutely mad.

“S-s-so, um,” Kouki ventured, once they began eating, “K-Kuroko says you need a place to stay?”

Seijuurou offered a dashing smile that made Kouki fight the urge to swoon. “Indeed,” he said. “I was kicked out.”

“W-w-wait, what? Sei, are you serious?” Kouki asked, his eyes wide with disbelief. “What happened!?”

“I refused to take over my father’s company, so he has severed all ties,” he explained nonchalantly, as though he were discussing the state of the weather. Kouki couldn’t believe his ears.

“Wh-wha… Th-then where have you been staying? How soon do you need to move in? I-is there anything I can do?”

“I appreciate your concern, Kouki,” Seijuurou said, his hand casually reaching out to touch his, turning Kouki a bright red. “But you needn’t worry about me. Tetsuya has kindly allowed me to stay here until I am in a more stable situation financially. However, I do not wish to impose for longer than necessary.”

“It is no trouble, Akashi-kun,” Kuroko replied. “Please stay for as long as you need.”

“U-uh… Aren’t there only two rooms here, though?” Kouki asked. He looked from Seijuurou to Kuroko, a swirl of jealousy stirring within him at the thought of the sleeping arrangements.

“Indeed. I have been sleeping in Tetsuya’s room.”

His heart dropped, afraid of what that might imply. Surely Seijuurou was feeling lonely, and it was only natural to want to be close to an old friend when he was so vulnerable. Perhaps one whose arms he could climb into in the middle of the night…

“… However, Tetsuya has temporarily vacated his room for my sake,” Seijuurou continued, the ghost of a grin on his face. “He has been sleeping in Kagami’s room. I believe it was Kagami who suggested it.”

Kagami turned bright red, crossing his arms over his chest and staring pointedly at the wall. “W-Well, you know,” he stammered. “A-Akashi prolly needs some privacy a-and stuff, so…” He scratched the back of his neck. Kuroko, in the meantime, was positively beaming. Kouki wondered how on earth the two of them hadn’t hooked up yet. “A-anyway, since when are you two close enough to be on a first name basis?”

“They were close enough to make out at our high school graduation party,” Kuroko commented.

Kouki spit out his drink. Kagami choked on his food. Seijuurou merely lifted a brow.

“You knew about that?” he questioned.

“I was in the room you two decided to use. I believe you were too occupied to notice me,” he explained matter-of-factly. “Please do not worry, I left around the time Furihata-kun’s shirt came off.”

_“Ohmygod.”_ Kouki covered his head with his hands. He wanted nothing more than to crawl under the table and die. Kuroko never told him he knew about _that!_ At least he didn’t stay long enough to find out that it had been a little bit more than _just_ making out…

“U-uh, I-I’m gonna go get that ice cream…” Kagami declared awkwardly, his face beet red. He stood and stiffly walked toward the kitchen.

“So,” Kuroko continued in his usual neutral tone, “shall we discuss the details of the arrangement?”

“I do not believe I need to,” Seijuurou said, smirking. “All I needed to know was that Kouki was the roommate you had in mind.”

Kouki laughed weakly, thinking he must be dreaming. “Y-You’d really want to live with me?”

“Of course,” Seijuurou replied smoothly, regarding him with those hungry eyes. “I have quite a lot of lost time to make up for.”

Kouki swallowed.

The remainder of his time at Kuroko and Kagami’s was spent trying not to stare at Seijuurou too obviously (which was especially hard when he was licking up his ice cream in the most seductive manner possible) and attempting to clarify details of when the redhead would move in. Kouki was in too much of a daze to remember much, other than the move-in date was roughly a month away and that Seijuurou would come over to see the place (“with supervision,” Kuroko insisted) later that week.

Seijuurou was the one to see him to the door when it was time to leave, the feeling of his hand lingering on the small of his back searing into Kouki’s skin the entire walk home. He climbed the three flights of stairs to his apartment distractedly, fitting his key into door number 412 and pushing past it inside.

Too much had happened in one day for his brain to keep up with. He flopped down on his bed, staring at the ceiling as he let it all sink in. _Akashi Seijuurou_ was going to live with him. He could hardly believe it. The only thing harder to believe was the fact that Seijuurou somehow still seemed interested after all these years.

He flipped onto his stomach, muffling a long groan into his pillow, his mind replaying the events of his high school graduation party once again, as he had every night since it happened.

 

Kouki hated parties. He really had no desire to be at this one either, even if it was his high school graduation. But it doubled as Kagami’s going away party, since everyone’s favorite basketball idiot had managed to land a sports scholarship to a school in America, and there was no way he could miss a farewell party to one of his closest friends. Nevermind that Kagami was, naturally, the center of attention, so it wasn’t like Kouki could even really talk to him.

He made his way away from the main party area, down a hallway that was already considerably quieter. All he wanted was to wait out the loudest part of the night, then maybe hang out with his friends once things settled down. If anyone was coherent enough to, at least.

He was about to check out one of the rooms when a calloused hand gripped his arm and spun him around. Kouki squeaked in surprise as he was pushed against a wall, crimson hair and eyes filling his vision.

“A-Akashi-ku- _mmf!”_

Seijuurou covered his lips with his own, sweeping his tongue through his mouth as Kouki gasped in surprise. The redhead’s hands entwined in his brown locks, blunt nails scraping across his scalp as he kissed him urgently. Kouki moaned around his tongue, which only caused Seijuurou to shudder and roll their hips closer together and _oh god_ he was already hard.

He had to be dreaming. Seijuurou had always been nice to him, but as far as Kouki knew, he was just _barely_ aware that he existed. It was very possible that he’d grabbed the wrong person to make out with in a dark hallway, but when he pulled away panting, still close enough for Kouki to feel his breath on his lips, the hungry look in Seijuurou’s eyes assured him that he’d made no mistakes.

“Call me Seijuurou,” he demanded, his voice barely above a whisper.

Kouki gulped at the seductive tone, blood rushing southwards as his adrenaline ramped up. He certainly didn’t want to disappoint.

He flipped their positions, pushing Seijuurou against the wall in his place. _“Seijuurou,”_ he hissed, delighting in how those ruby eyes widened before darkening with lust again as he closed the distance between them. Kouki had no idea where his courage was coming from, other than the niggling thought that this could be his only chance ever to be with him. He wasn’t about to waste that.

He broke away from those perfect lips to kiss a line down Seijuurou’s neck, lingering at the junction between neck and shoulder to graze his teeth against the sensitive skin. Seijuurou sucked in a sharp breath that wound down into a long, low groan. His arms snaked around Kouki’s back, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt like he was clinging on for dear life.

_“Kouki,”_ he gasped as Kouki dipped his tongue into the hollow of his collarbone. “This way.”

He grabbed Kouki’s wrist and yanked him further down the hall, practically kicking down a door to a bedroom which was, thankfully, empty. Kouki barely had time to take in his surroundings before Seijuurou pushed him onto the bed, tugging his t-shirt off and tossing it aside to give him a front row view of what lay beneath. Kouki blushed, embarrassed that the physical perfection that was Akashi Seijuurou had to witness his skinny body, but his embarrassment was soon forgotten as he felt a hot mouth on his chest.

“S-Sei, I- _ah!”_ He writhed as Seijuurou’s mouth closed around a nipple, sucking on the pink nub delicately. Catlike eyes flashed up at Kouki, a smirk on his mouth.

“So sensitive,” he purred, licking his lips. His hands roved downwards, stopping to caress the bulge in Kouki’s jeans. “And what about here?”

Kouki swallowed, his frazzled nerves working overtime. “Wh-why don’t you find out for y-yourself?”

Seijuurou looked pleased with the answer. He swiftly unfastened his jeans and pulled the zipper down with his _teeth_ and _fuck,_ Kouki had never been so turned on in his entire _life._ He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight of Seijuurou pulling his boxers down far enough to free his cock, the redhead looking positively ravenous.

Seijuurou gripped the base of his erection and Kouki was already reeling. Nevermind that he’d never even _kissed_ anyone before this, but add in the fact that it was _Seijuurou_ who was practically drooling over his dick and he was starting to think that maybe, just maybe, he was in over his head.

That thought flew out the window the minute Seijuurou swirled his tongue around his shaft.

“H-holy shit...” he breathed, watching as Seijuurou smirked in delight at the response, planting wet, open mouthed kisses along the length of his cock.

“You are exquisite, Kouki,” he cooed, licking off the ample amount of precum pooling at his slit. Kouki’s eyes rolled back at the sensation, his limbs trembling. “I trust you won’t hold back that lovely voice of yours.”

Kouki was panting for air, still trying to form an intelligible thought when Seijuurou’s still swollen lips closed around the head of his dick. Kouki choked out a gasp, the redhead’s name spilling out in a low moan. He could still see the smug smirk tugging at the corners of his full mouth as he bobbed his head down, taking Kouki into the back of his throat.

“F-fuck… Ahhh… _S-Sei…!”_ Kouki resisted the urge to buck into that heavenly mouth, wanting nothing more than to grab a fistful of his hair and fuck his face. Seijuurou held his hips firmly down against the mattress as he continued his ministrations, a low chuckle vibrating around Kouki’s length every time he involuntarily twitched upwards.

His orgasm was approaching rapidly, his toes curling, his head lolling back as he gasped and panted. Every touch from Seijuurou was pure ecstasy, and his inexperienced body could only take so much. Seijuurou sped up the pace, his saliva completely coating Kouki’s cock, obscene slurping noises filling the room. Kouki was shaking, trembling, sweet release so, so _very close-_

The door slammed open. “Oi, Akashi!”

Kouki toppled over the side of the bed, hastily pulling his shorts as far up as possible. Seijuurou peered over at him, a displeased frown marring his gorgeous face. He opened his mouth to say something, but was promptly yanked out of Kouki’s line of sight.

“There you are, Akashicchi!” came a cheery voice. “We need you!”

“I’m _busy,”_ Seijuurou growled.

“Not anymore,” another, more surly voice replied. “Satsuki challenged that chick from Seirin to a beer pong contest and you’re playing for our team. She said if she wins she’ll show me her _tits._ ”

“Unhand me, Daiki,” Seijuurou demanded, struggle evident in his voice. “I have much more important things to attend to than your childish contest-”

“ _Tits,_ Akashi! I don’t give a shit what you were doing, nothing is more important than this!”

“It’ll be fun, Akashicchi! Don’t be so antisocial!”

The door closed behind them, evidence of continued struggle floating through the walls. Kouki didn’t move a muscle, still laying on the floor, his heart pounding in his ears as he stared at the ceiling.

The room was eerily silent as he laid there, wondering if Seijuurou would come crashing back in, ready to finish what he started. After a few minutes passed and no one came, he tentatively got up and searched around the room for his shirt. He finally located it on top of a lampshade and pulled it on. He was still painfully hard from his almost-orgasm, but he didn’t have the heart to finish himself off. Not while the possibility of Seijuurou coming back still existed.

Once he had calmed down enough to be presentable in public, he ventured out into the hallway, a chorus of screams and yells drifting down from the main party. He made his way toward the commotion, peering through the throngs of people to see what all the excitement was about.

He wasn’t surprised to see a fierce round of beer pong attracting all the attention, noting with some amusement that Seijuurou had opted to join Riko’s team rather than Momoi’s, if Kise’s wails of betrayal were anything to go on. Kouki debated pushing his way through the crowd to where Seijuurou was being held prisoner when a hand grabbed his shoulder.

“Furi! I finally found you!” Fukuda gasped. He was supporting a rather limp looking Kuroko with one arm, a worried look on his face. “Kuroko’s had way too much to drink. How sober are you?”

“H-huh? I haven’t really had anything…”

“Do you think you could take him home?” Fukuda pleaded. “I would do it, but Kawahara was going to stay over at my place tonight, and I can’t get him to leave…”

“I…” Kouki turned to look at Seijuurou across the room, biting his lip in a mental debate. As much as he wanted to continue things with the gorgeous redhead, he couldn’t ignore a friend in need. He’d have plenty of other chances to get with Seijuurou, right? “Yeah, alright. I’ll take him.”

Relief washed over Fukuda’s face. “Thanks Furi, you’re a life saver! Maybe literally.” He frowned. “I don’t know why Kuroko drank so much. It’s not like him at all. Sorry to pawn him off on you.”

“N-No, it’s okay.” Kouki took hold of Kuroko, slinging the shorter male’s arm over his shoulder. “Good luck with Kawahara.”

Fukuda shot him one last grateful smile, then disappeared back into the crowd. Kouki looked at Kuroko’s pale face and frowned, and then with one last lingering glance at Seijuurou, he made his way toward the exit.

 

Kouki pulled the pillow out from beneath him and covered his head with it in frustration. He didn’t regret taking care of his sick friend over getting laid, but the circumstances were still irritating to no end. He had been _so close,_ and he’d spent the past three years regretting that nothing had come of it.

Now he finally had another chance. And, just like Seijuurou had said, they had quite a lot of lost time to make up for.

**Author's Note:**

> sorry guys, I'm complete akafuri trash now. This will be multichapter and not a serious fic. at all. Expect lots of smut, stupid shenanigans, some fluff, and maybe like a side helping of plot every now and then. This is just for fun so I don't pull my hair out in frustration writing my other chapter fic. If you've got any fun requests for situations you'd like to see set in this 'verse, leave a comment here or on my tumblr @heema-wren and I'll do what I can. Updates will be sporadic at best. Furiaka on its way. Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy!


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